Why Women Stay Too Long in Relationships

Glamour columnist Zosia Mamet has been down that road. So no judgment here—just insight on how to (finally) move on.

Recently, while cleaning out a closet, I found a letter from an ex-boyfriend. He had written to me after I'd broken up with him, the first of many breakups between us. I reread the old letter and, in hindsight, wondered why on earth I had stayed with him for so long.

We dated for over a year, and for every minute of it, I was miserable. This guy had a great job, rad friends, and a good apartment. He was clean, hot—and, oh, we had the best meet-cute ever. It was full-on fifties-movie style: He was the first and only guy to ask for my number...in a diner...on New Year's Eve. But this guy was also most definitely, completely wrong for me, and me for him. I felt like he dismissed my feelings—sadness, frustration, basic emotions—as hysterics. We had nothing to say to each other because we had pretty much zero in common. With him, I felt intensely insecure and, overall, just sad. Finally, at my wit's end, I went to my family's rabbi for advice and described the situation. He pondered for a moment, looked me square in the eye, and said, "Run." Based on the way I was describing things, he told me, if I didn't get out now I might never leave, and I knew he was right.

I like to think I'm a pretty intuitive, intelligent human, so why did it take a Teacher of the Torah to reality-check me out of a relationship I knew with every fiber of my being was wrong for me?

A huge part of it wasn't necessarily a fear of being alone, but a fear of throwing away a good apple, maybe the last good apple. We're brought up on these tales of Cinderella and Snow White, the lonely girl finally meeting her Prince Charming and being whisked away into the sunset. Then we hit the grown-up dating world, and an ugly fluorescent light is cast upon this love fairy tale, revealing a bleak, lonely desert. So when someone comes along who's "good on paper," we hold on for dear life, even if being with that person, off paper, in reality, feels like sh-t.

My fear of letting go of what might be the best guy I could get paralyzed me. Every rational voice in my head screamed "Get out," but my fear told me "What if this guy is the love of your life and you're too narrow-minded to realize it?" My jaded mind started to think epic love existed only in fairy tales. Maybe this awkward, lackluster, kind-of-depressing relationship was what grown-up love felt like. And besides, I justified, who wants to dive back into the dating pool? That sh-t is scary and involves staying out too late and putting on makeup—ah!

So, fear. Fear in all forms makes us stay too long in relationships when we know we shouldn't. But as Simba the lion cub once wisely said, "Laugh in the face of danger." So I listened to the Lion King. I laughed in the face of danger, and I broke up with him once and for all. I even threw his toothbrush in the ocean as, you know, a cleansing action. And for a while I was lonely. Then I dated a few assholes, but my barometer was better and I got out faster, leading to a little more loneliness and another asshole, and then it led to love, a love so great I never could've imagined it. This guy—the new guy—finds my emotional demeanor endearing. I could talk to him for hours, or sit in silence and be just as happy. He makes me feel full and supported and safe. He is the love of my life and my best friend. I laughed in the face of danger, and I lived to tell the tale.

A dear friend of mine once said, "Do it until it feels good; if it doesn't feel good, stop." I think that's pretty sage advice. So I'd like to encourage you all to check in: Does your relationship feel good? If it does, stay. If it doesn't, well, you know what to do.